


Band-Aids and Lollipops

by snap_crackles (orphan_account)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elementary School, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Kid Fic, chapter two gets angst-y guys, everyone loves pre-school chan, jihoon's kids are the sweetest softest bunch, minghao may or may not be running a gang of first graders and kindergarteners, seungcheol totally drives a minivan what a soccer dad™, seventeen unit leaders as dads, wonwoo collects flowers but not for the reason you're probably thinking, wonwoo deserves all the love in the world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-12 16:25:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12963495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/snap_crackles
Summary: “You’re stealing my kids, Choi!”“I can’t help it that I’m the cool dad.”[or, a set of one-shots exploring the everyday dad-life of Seventeen’s unit leaders]





	1. Field Trip Forms

**Author's Note:**

> Damn Ash, back at it again with fic-writing when I should be preparing hardcore for finals next week!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys like this, because I really had fun writing it. Writing fluff is hella therapeutic after just hours of studying all morning. It's like...wow, I remember what happiness is like, lol!  
> I'll be updating every few days, working on it little by little everyday as an outlet to detach from the stress of finals.
> 
> I don't mean to sound dramatic and desperate, but your reviews could really cheer me up during these trying times haha. Also, please excuse any errors I have made in the process of writing this. I went over it a few times to clean it up some, but there's always a possibility I may have missed something.
> 
> Thanks y'all.

 

It’s a quiet, Friday afternoon when Soonyoung steps out onto the front porch.

It’s 3:48 pm, and in approximately 2 minutes, a big yellow bus will pull up across the street, and some children from Waters Elementary will file out and begin to walk home. Two of those children are Junhui and Minghao, two-out-of-three of Soonyoung’s adopted children.

Sighing, Soonyoung sits down on the porch swing and pulls out a folded piece of paper. Scanning over the page for the hundredth time, he lets out a chuckle and folds it back up before looking upwards and running his fingers through his hair.

_Oh Minghao, what in the world am I going to do with you…_

True to schedule, a school bus pulls up at the opposite side of the street and Soonyoung watches as talkative children begin to hop out. It lifts his heart, watching the small kindergarteners group together, holding hands with backpacks half their size.

Soonyoung then spots Jun, who waits patiently for his younger adoptive brother.

“Junnie!” Soonyoung calls out, and he watches as his eldest son looks towards his direction. Jun, spotting his father, lets out a big smile and begins to wave enthusiastically. Minghao then comes into view, and the smaller boy looks to where Jun is waving. Seeing his father Minghao begins to wave too.

After waiting for the bus to drive off, the two proceed to race towards the house, and Soonyoung stands to greet them. It’s Minghao who reaches him first, the boy launching himself onto his father.

“You’re home early!” Minghao chirps, looking up at Soonyoung who smiles fondly down at him. When Minghao lets go, Jun quickly takes his place.

“Yeah, I got a call from the pre-school.” Soonyoung ruffles Jun’s hair. “Channie wasn’t feeling well so I had to pick him up.” He catches the worry that flashes on his son’s faces. “Don’t worry though,” he adds quickly. “It’s nothing a little Tylenol couldn’t help. He’s sleeping right now. Chan will be fine.” It softens his heart when he watches relief flood their faces.

“Dad, we’re learning about the solar system in school! Can you help me with my science project?” Jun asks hopefully, and Soonyoung smiles.

“Yeah, of course, Junnie!”

The eldest grins brightly before taking lead towards the front door—Minghao begins to follow, but Soonyoung places a gentle hand on Minghao’s shoulder.

“Don’t go in yet, Hao. I need to talk to you first.” Soonyoung states in a neutral tone. Minghao looks back up at his father with confusion and Jun pauses at the door, his hand on the doorknob.

“Is Hao Hao in trouble?” Jun asks curiously, switching his glances between his father and brother. Soonyoung sighs.

“A little bit. Go on in Junnie, we’ll be inside soon.” Soonyoung gives Jun a reassuring nod. The eldest takes one last quick glance at Minghao before listening to what his father had asked of him. When the front door shuts, Minghao looks at Soonyoung hesitantly.

“How much is _‘a little bit?_ ’” Minghao asks, and the question has Soonyoung chuckling.

“Like… ten percent.” Soonyoung says, putting a hand on Minghao’s back and leading his son to the porch swing.

“I didn’t mean it!” Minghao blurts out guiltily when they both sit down. Soonyoung raises an amused eyebrow.

“Oh, so you already know what you did?”

“I sneaked into Mrs. Smith’s supply closet on Wednesday and took all her gummy worms and gave them to Seokmin to cheer Seokmin up because someone made Seokmin cry and I don’t like it when Seokmin cries!” Minghao babbles.

The confession is unexpected and takes Soonyoung back, both of his eyebrows now climbing up his forehead.

“And I know stealing is wrong but Seokmin was so sad! And I didn’t want to get in trouble or sent to the boring principal’s office for beating someone up, so I did the next best thing! And Seokmin loves gummy worms, so I gave him gummy worms!” Minghao finishes his confession, and Soonyoung isn’t sure whether he wants to hug his son first or burst out laughing.

“Please don’t be mad.” Minghao says in a small voice, and Soonyoung lets out a huff of amusement.

“No Hao. I’m not…I’m not mad at you for that. Actually, I’m not mad at you at all. Stealing is wrong yes, but I guess you did it for a good reason.” When Soonyoung finds Minghao looking unconvinced, he smiles gently at his son. “I’ll tell you what; this weekend we’re gonna go grocery shopping for more gummy worms and on Monday you can give them to Mrs. Smith and you _will_ tell her what happened, okay?” Soonyoung pushes back Minghao’s hair, and watches as the boy nods solemnly in understanding.

“Okay, I’ll do that.” Minghao says.

“Good.” Soonyoung leans over and kisses the top of Minghao’s head. “Now that you told me all of this, I still have one more thing I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh no.” Minghao whispers, and Soonyoung smirks, before reaching over to the folded piece of paper lying around nearby.

“I received an email from Mrs. Smith this afternoon. She said the whole class went to the aquarium today but you had to stay behind. On that email, she sent me a photocopy of the permission slip you turned in.” Soonyoung sucks in his cheeks to prevent himself from laughing when he sees the dread flood across Minghao’s face.

Unfolding the piece of paper, Soonyoung hands the sheet to Minghao who slowly takes it with trepidation.

“Do you see what’s wrong with it?”

“It’s dated with the wrong year.” Minghao mumbles.

“And?”

“The cursive writing on the signature is sloppy.”

_“And?”_

“The ‘g’ in your name is a ‘q’.”

“Did you really think you could fool your teacher with a forged signature?” Soonyoung can’t do it anymore. He laughs. Hard. He scoops Minghao into his arms and holds the boy tight. “Why didn’t you show me your permission slip, silly? I always sign your slips!”

“I forgot to show it to you.” Minghao mumbles apologetically as Soonyoung pulls away. “She was picking them up when I remembered that I didn’t show you my form. So I signed it myself. I’m sorry. I know it’s wrong.” Minghao looks at his father glumly, and Soonyoung sighs.

“At least you know it’s wrong. This is the first time you did this, and as long as it’s not a habit, I’m not worried about it.” Soonyoung, pushes back Minghao’s hair again. “Keep your forms at the front of your folder, yeah? So you won’t forget to show me?”

“Yes dad.” Minghao nods.

“Good. Let’s get some snacks to eat now, and get you started on your homework!” The two stand up from the porch swing and Soonyoung guides Minghao away with a hand placed on Minghao’s shoulder.

“Oh and Hao Hao.” Soonyoung pauses in his steps, causing Minghao to look up at him with curiosity.

“Yes dad?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 


	2. Drawer Full of Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh boy, I thought everything about this fic was gonna be sunshine and daisies. It got angst-y real quick instead. Be prepared for backstory before we get to the flower collecting part. Also, prepare yourself for a tiny feels trip. This chapter came out longer than I initially aimed for, but I really wanted to add context behind why Wonwoo does what he does with the flowers.

 

Wonwoo doesn’t make friends easily.

When Seungcheol first enrolled him in pre-school, within the first two months, he had received a phone call requesting for a parent-teacher meeting.

“Wonwoo’s a bright child,” the teacher had begun kindly. “He reads well, perhaps better than any of the kids here. And he’s so well behaved—so _sweet_. But he’s also so _quiet_.”

Seungcheol remembers glancing at Wonwoo who was building with blocks in the back corner, minding his own business.

“What do you mean by quiet?” He had asked.

“Wonwoo doesn’t talk much with any of the children.” The woman explained. “He doesn’t talk much period, unless he’s being spoken to. And I’m just a tad bit concerned. Is everything okay?” The question has Seungcheol closing his eyes and deeply inhaling. He knows it’s not a personal attack on him and that the woman is only reaching out from the goodness of her heart, but still—it stirs a lot of bitter feelings inside.

“He was like that at the adoption center too. Very quiet. Kept to himself. The caretakers and counselors mentioned that it was partially because he’s a naturally shy person, and they partially linked it to his past home life.” Seungcheol says it in a lowered tone, massaging tiredly at his face. “But everything at home is okay. He is loved, and while I don’t press at sensitive issues, I always make sure to let him know that he can talk to me about anything at any time…I love him dearly.”

“Of course.” The woman nods in understanding.

When father and son walk hand-in-hand out of the pre-school, Wonwoo asked, “Dad, is something wrong with me?” The question makes Seungcheol stop in his tracks. Looking down, he finds Wonwoo staring back at him with glossy eyes—eyes filled with tears that haven’t fallen yet.

The look pains Seungcheol and he falls down onto his knees immediately, drawing his son in.

“No.” He says firmly, his throat feeling tight and his voice going hoarse. He holds Wonwoo tightly, wanting the boy to physically feel that he is wanted and loved. “Absolutely not. Nothing is wrong with you, Wonwoo. You are perfect to me.” When Seungcheol pulls away, he reaches to quickly dry away Wonwoo’s falling tears. “Hey now, don’t cry.” He said soothingly. “Papa’s crying now too.” To exaggerate his point, Seungcheol sniffles, making Wonwoo laugh.

The sound puts a quivering smile on Seungcheol’s face.

“I like your smiles better.” Seungcheol gently comments as he brushes away at Wonwoo’s bangs.

“I like smiling too.”

It’s a bittersweet thing for Seungcheol to hear. Bitter, for the fact that Wonwoo went for so long without having a reason to smile, and sweet for the fact that Wonwoo still had _hope_ —hope that life was going to be brighter and kinder.

Seungcheol bumps their foreheads together.

“I love you Wonwoo. Please know that, okay?”

“I know you love me.” Wonwoo replies. “And I love you too dad.”

 

* * *

 

Wonwoo is still a quiet boy.

He’s a kindergartener when he tugs at Seungcheol’s sleeve one night as he’s getting tucked in.

“Daddy.” Wonwoo sleepily yawns, and Seungcheol hums a sound indicating that he’s listening. “I want a little brother.”

It’s a surprising request that has Seungcheol blinking in surprise.

“Why do you want a little brother?” Seungcheol asks, taking a seat on the edge of the small, twin sized bed.

“So I won’t be so lonely...” Wonwoo murmurs. The statement makes Seungcheol’s heart drop.

“…I try to make friends at school, but they always go away and call me boring, or that I’m too weird.” The confession breaks Seungcheol’s heart, but he sees that Wonwoo’s not done speaking.

“And I hear the other kids sometimes talk about their brothers and sisters. So I thought… maybe if I had a little brother…maybe I’ll have a friend.” Wonwoo yawns again, and Seungcheol looks up at the ceiling, blinking furiously to fight tears. When he looks down, he finds that Wonwoo is staring at him patiently, completely dry eyed.

“I’ll think about it.” Seungcheol manages to choke out as casually as he can. “Adopting children isn’t an easy decision, but I’ll give it some thought, okay?” He leans in and kisses Wonwoo’s forehead. “But right now, it’s time to sleep, alright? I love you Wonwoo.”

“I love you too dad.” Wonwoo quietly replies.

“Good night Won-Won.”

“G’night dad.”

Seungcheol leaves the room, making sure to turn on the night-light before switching off the main light and gently shutting the door behind him.

He makes it three steps down the hallway before he leans against the wall and starts to cry.

 

The summer of that year, Mingyu is adopted and welcomed home.

Wonwoo loves him fiercely, as any good big brother should.

One night, as Seungcheol’s about to enter the boys’ shared room to tuck them in, he hears Wonwoo’s soft voice through the slight opening.

“I’ll protect you ‘Gyu.” Wonwoo says. “I promise. I’ll make sure that you’ll never feel alone.”

 

When school starts up again that year, Wonwoo makes his first friend. It’s a fellow first grader, who goes by the name Junhui. Junnie. Jun.

“He doesn’t leave me behind.” Wonwoo says in a daze from the backseat of the van. “He laughs at my jokes, and reads with me, and plays with me in the playground! We take turns pushing each other on the swings when there’s not enough open swings! I thought he’d leave me alone after the first day of school, but it’s been two weeks, dad! I think I finally made a friend!”

Excitement is bubbling in Wonwoo’s voice, and Seungcheol can’t fight the urge to briefly look up at the rear view mirror to flash his son a huge and earnest smile.

“I’m so happy to hear that Wonwoo!” Seungcheol exclaims. Mingyu is clapping loudly and Wonwoo is bouncing in his seat, and the positive energy is so consuming, Seungcheol can’t help but laugh.

In his thoughts he sends a quick blessing to the boy Junhui.

_Junhui, thank you for being a friend to my son._

 

Wonwoo gains more friends after that. With Mingyu’s friendship to Seokmin, Mingyu and Wonwoo often go to Seokmin’s house after school alongside Junhui and Minghao.

Jeonghan and Joshua are sweet boys. Junhui and Minghao are sweet boys, and Seungcheol could cry with joy for how his sons have such nice friends.

Soonyoung and Seungcheol’s day jobs would usually require them to send their kids to an after school program since they’re still too young to be left home alone. They’re thankful that Jihoon runs his own business in the comforts of his home.

Still, seven kids in one house almost every day must be exhausting.

Jihoon just holds the two other dads to the promise that they pay for a dinner outing every other month.

 

* * *

 

It’s around this time when Seungcheol notices how Wonwoo begins to bring home flowers.  

Wonwoo starts off with common dandelions; the obnoxious yellow ones that sprout anywhere and everywhere, alongside large, ugly weeds.

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything at first, as curious as he is. Wonwoo will do what Wonwoo does.

But then it isn’t just dandelions…

When Seungcheol picks the boys up from Jihoon’s place after work one evening, Wonwoo is holding three tulips.

“So where did you get the tulips?” Seungcheol asks as he and his two sons walk out to the van.

“We passed by an old lady’s house while we were walking to Mr. Lee’s afterschool.” Wonwoo answers simply. “The old lady has flowers everywhere, and so I asked if I could have some tulips.”

“She said Wonwoo can pick any flower he likes anytime!” Mingyu adds in. “As long as he doesn’t dig holes or kill any of her plants.”

“That’s very kind of her, Wonwoo.” Seungcheol says. He doesn’t ask why Wonwoo would want her flowers, as much as he’s dying to know; but something tells him that the timing’s not right. He’s not sure if he’s thinking too deeply about it, but Wonwoo doesn’t say anything else, so Seungcheol leaves it alone.

 

Every time Seungcheol picks up his kids from Jihoon’s place, Wonwoo has new flowers in his hands. Daisies. Pink verbenas. Freesias of different colors…

“Why does Wonwoo collect flowers?” Seungcheol blurts out as he sits at Jihoon’s dining room table, watching his kids play with the others outside in the backyard. Jihoon raises an eyebrow.

“He hasn’t told you?” Jihoon asks. “Damn, Seungcheol. That boy’s been collecting flowers for months.”

“I haven’t asked!” Seungcheol cries defensively. “I don’t want to press or be invasive or have him think that I think it’s weird, even though I don’t think it’s weird at all…”

“You’re overthinking.” Jihoon snorts, taking a loud sip of his decaf coffee. “Wonwoo’s not fragile, and it’s _probably_ not that deep. Ask him yourself, Cheol. You’ll never know until you do. And if it gives you a peace of mind, I haven’t asked, and he hasn’t told me.”

Later that night, as he and Wonwoo take care of the dishes and Mingyu finishes up going through his vocabulary flashcards, Seungcheol pops the question.

“Why do you collect flowers?” Seungcheol steps away from the sink and leans back against the kitchen island. Wonwoo, who’s standing on the stool and putting dried plates away, glances over his shoulder, puts down the plates, and steps off onto the floor.

“I’ve…uh…wanted to tell you about it actually.” Wonwoo begins shyly, looking down at his feet.

“It’s okay, you can tell me.” Seungcheol encourages, and when his son looks up, Wonwoo is blushing.

“I’m kinda making something personal with them.” Wonwoo says. “I was gonna ask you sometime about buying me a book with blank pages. Sorta like a journal. And some plastic sheet thingies. Maybe some new markers too.”

“Are you making a scrapbook?” Seungcheol asks with interest. Wonwoo shrugs.

“Kinda. You’ll see.” And then Wonwoo bites his lip with uncertainty. “Is it okay then? Can I get those things?”

The smile Seungcheol gives his eldest is soft.

“Of course I will.” Seungcheol says gently. “I trust that this is important to you. Of course I’ll get it.”

The smile Wonwoo gives him is that of relief and gratitude.

 

* * *

 

After some time passes, Wonwoo, in second grade, finally shows Seungcheol the book. By this time, Wonwoo already has another little brother to love with all his heart.

It’s Thanksgiving, and everyone is crowded around Seungcheol’s living room. The gathering is winding down to an end, but Wonwoo wanted everyone to stay for a couple of moments before leaving.

“I have something to show everyone.” Wonwoo begins, voice shaking just a little bit. “It’s really important to me, and I wanted to show it to all of you, because you’re all a part of it too. We’re a family now, and I guess this is how I want to let everyone know how thankful I am that we’re together.”

Wonwoo flips to the first page. In large, neat, cursive—written in what looks like a bold, paintbrush stroke, are the words **WONWOO’S BOOK**

“Mr. Appleby helped me practice my cursive last year so I could write that!” Wonwoo boasts proudly. Around the page are dried dandelions, preserved in plastic sheets that Wonwoo had requested a while back.

“Dandelions,” Wonwoo reads out loud the small, penned, text at the bottom. “For healing. For surviving challenges and difficulties. For the lasting happiness in the future.”

And suddenly, Seungcheol understands.

“Like almost all of us here, I was adopted.” Wonwoo begins. “I don’t remember much, but I do know that I didn’t come from a good home. I remember being sad. I remember being alone. I think I cried a lot when I was little, and I think little me back then wasn’t sure if I’ll ever be happy.” Wonwoo takes a deep breath as Mingyu, who’s sitting to Wonwoo’s left, dips his head against Wonwoo’s shoulder.

Hansol, who sits to Wonwoo’s right, presses himself against his older brother’s side, causing Wonwoo to look down at him fondly.

“But that’s in the past now,” Wonwoo continues. “I got this idea when I noticed how dandelions sprout everywhere. They always grow and you can’t keep them down. And then I started thinking about flower meanings, if they’re like stars and planets in the sky—flowers have names, but do they have stories too? In a way, we’re all like flowers. And I’m here… Blooming… I’m… _I’m home._ ” Wonwoo’s voice cracks a little.

Seungcheol, who’s standing behind the sofa, watching his son’s story unfold before him, feels his eyes begin to water, and his vision blurs so much that he doesn’t see Wonwoo turn the page.

“These pages I made for my dad.” Wonwoo says, the second Seungcheol wipes away his tears. Vision cleared, Seungcheol sees a page of pressed and preserved pink verbenas and red sorrels. On the other page is a hand drawn picture he remembers drawing with Wonwoo sometime after the adoption. It’s in Crayola; stick figures of them holding hands—the house they’re standing beside is just as tall as the stick people, and Seungcheol lets out a choked laugh.

There’s also a small photo of them together on the page, both smiling at the camera.

“Me and dad drew this picture together.” Wonwoo said, pointing at the drawing. “It’s not a good picture, but I remember having so much fun and thinking that it’s great having a dad who actually cared about me. Dad hung it on the fridge, and it was a few months ago when I decided to take it down and glue it in the book.”

Wonwoo turns to look up at his father before reciting the block of text that was written beside the pressed flowers.

“Pink verbenas, for a family union. Red sorrels for your affection. Thank you for showing me love and giving me a family where I belong. I love you.”

Seungcheol breaks.

_“I love you too.”_ He cries, and there’s a soft sound of “aw’s” and gentle giggles.

“Move Kwon, I’ve got to hug my son.” Seungcheol playfully shoves at Soonyoung, who chuckles and side steps away. When Seungcheol reaches Wonwoo, Wonwoo is already standing up, and the two grab hold of each other, tightly embracing.

After that, Seungcheol listens as Wonwoo reads out flower meanings for everyone else; a warm sense of pride and affection filling his heart. Pride for his son’s maturity and thoughtfulness. By the time Wonwoo finishes, there’s not a single person who isn’t red-eyed and, or sniffling.

 

 

From that period onward, no one questions the flowers in Wonwoo’s hands. They smile at the sight instead, reminded of the love blooming inside the young boy’s heart.

(And even though **Wonwoo’s Book** is complete, Seungcheol still finds that his eldest son’s left drawer smells of gardenia and is filled with both fresh flowers and press-dried petals.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMING UP… 
> 
> Jihoon prides himself for having heaven-sent children. The teachers love his seemingly well-behaved kids…until he gets a call from the principal’s office. 
> 
> There's nothing like an early hands-on lesson in entrepreneurship.


	3. Seventeen Corporation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven businessmen, five business projects, three families, and two headquarters. Seventeen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably gonna be the longest chapter in this fic (and I’m so sorry, please don’t let this length scare you away!) I’m definitely going to be writing shorter pieces after this, but there’s a method to my madness in this chapter, I swear. 
> 
> So it starts with background to what the boys did; it’s the parent-student–teacher meeting, which feeds into the conversations Jihoon has with his kids at the middle-end of the chapter. I pulled in a lot of kids for this scenario, so bear with me here. It’s a bit crowded, but it works out.
> 
> FOR REFERENCE PURPOSES:  
> Jeonghan & Joshua – 3rd grade  
> Jun & Wonwoo – 2nd grade (They're not in this chapter though)  
> 97 Line – 1st grade  
> Seungkwan & Hansol – Kindergarten  
> Chan - pre-school (Not present in this chapter)

There are five things Jihoon holds dear to his heart:

  * Each of his four kids—Jeonghan, Joshua, Seokmin, and Seungkwan
  * The music he produces for other artists



His children are his ultimate joy. The people who can make him smile on his most stressful days. The ones who give him a dose of hope for humanity in the midst of all the shallowness, and sometimes greed, that he encounters in the industry.

He’s a lucky dad too. They’re all sweet boys. _Angels_ , their teachers tell him. Well-mannered and bright; a friend to almost anyone in the classroom.

 It’s something that softens Jihoon’s heart every time he hears it.

Which is why it’s so surprising when he gets a call at 3:25 in the afternoon from Waters Elementary, requesting that he come in afterschool for a disciplinary meeting. He’s told to go to classroom 217, where they will discuss the situation in detail.

Apparently all his sons are involved…

Which leaves Jihoon baffled, because as mischievous as Jeonghan can be with Joshua playing along, both boys know their limits and can separate play from serious matters like school. And as loud and bright as Seokmin and Seungkwan can be, they also know their limits and try their best to reign in their endless energy.

His boys aren’t trouble makers. Playful yes, and sometimes a little foolish in an attempt to entertain others, but not to the point that it’s disruptive or harmful.

When Jihoon arrives at the door of the classroom, he takes a deep breath before making his entrance…

The desks are pushed to the side, and in the center of the room is a wide circle of chairs, each one occupied, save for one empty seat that must be for him.

“Glad you can join the party, Lee.” Soonyoung murmurs when Jihoon takes the empty chair beside Soonyoung. “We were all waiting for you.”

“Well you know what they say.” Jihoon mutters back. _“The party doesn’t start until I walk in.”_ There’s a loud snort coming from Seungcheol and another dad that Jihoon doesn’t recognize, and Soonyoung aims a playful punch onto his shoulder.

Taking the time to look around the circle, Jihoon notices that almost all the kids from the Choi-Kwon-Lee clan are present except for Junhui, Wonwoo, and obviously Chan. There are also two kids and their parents that Jihoon doesn’t recognize. Some teachers and the principal…

_Oh, this is bad._

“So before we begin discussing possible punishments, I believe that there needs to be an explanation for why we’re all gathered here today.” A woman begins, and Jihoon recognizes her as the school’s music teacher.

“This afternoon, after we were preparing for the winter choir celebration, I found Minghao, Mingyu and Seokmin hanging around behind the risers, cornering another boy. There seemed to be an exchange. Naturally, I was curious, but I also had to usher them back to the classroom so they could get their stuff ready for dismissal. Apparently it was a buying-selling exchange, which isn’t allowed by school policy. I held the boys back when the bell rang.”

At the mention of Seokmin, Jihoon’s eyebrows shoot upward in surprise.

 _Seokmin_.

_Cornering someone._

 To _sell_ something.

 Jihoon almost wonders if he had heard wrong, until he looks around the circle for his son, only to notice that Seokmin is peering anxiously back at him, hiding behind his sweater paws. Jihoon blinks. Was the teacher sure it wasn’t _Seokmin_ being cornered? Jihoon looks back at the teacher who continues speaking.

“Their brothers came by to pick them up, but when I said that the three were in trouble for selling stuff on school campus, Jeonghan and Joshua as well as the two youngest confessed involvement as well. Wonwoo and Jun knew what was going on, but everyone confirmed they had no active participation, so I let the two go. I don’t know the specifics, but I do suspect that Seokmin, Mingyu and Minghao have a heavy contribution in whatever is going on.”

Suddenly all eyes fly to the trio—two of whom obviously displaying their discomfort. Seokmin sits there, partially covering the bottom half of his face with his long sleeves while Mingyu stares at a spot on the floor, lips pressed into a thin line, avoiding eye contact with everyone else. It was Minghao who was innocently blinking back at his music teacher, much to the amusement of Jihoon.

It reminds Jihoon of the time he had overheard Jeonghan talking to Minghao in the kitchen:

_((“Did you know that you’re very cute, Minghao?” Jeonghan had stated. “Like a fairy. If you act cute, you could get away with a lot of things.”))_

_((“But I don’t want to act cute! I want to be cool!”))_

_((“Oh, so you’re a cool cutie then!”))_

“What were you boys attempting to sell?” The principal asked.

“A deck of trading cards.” Minghao earnestly replied.

“And how much did you try to get in return?”

“$5.00.”

The nonchalant answer has Soonyoung inhaling sharply and when Jihoon turns to look at his friend’s face, Soonyoung’s lips are pulled down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed—an expression of disproval.

“That’s a heavy price for a deck of cards.” The principal mused.

“Our regular price is just $1.50, but I didn’t like this guy. He made Seokmin cry once, and he’s still mean. He gets a special charge.” Minghao replied evenly, crossing his arms. “He was about to pay it too. I guess he got lucky that we got caught.”

 _Fair enough._ Jihoon thinks to himself. It must’ve been the same kid from months ago that bullied Seokmin until he cried.

With a glance at Soonyoung, Jihoon finds that the man’s face had softened.

 “May I see the deck?” The principal requests.

“I have it in my bag.” The music teacher answers. A few seconds of silence pass as she rummages around in her purse and pulls out a thick deck of cards, bound together by a rubber band.

“Ohhhh, _those_ cards.” The principal says with realization. “There seems to be a craze for these within the student body.” Taking the deck, the principal takes off the rubber band and flips through the cards. “These aren’t the originals though. These are photocopied in color onto cardstock and laminated.” The principal looks up at Minghao waiting for an explanation.

Minghao nibbles on his lip.

“I photocopied and laminated them.” Jeonghan confesses, seeing Minghao’s discomfort in exposing Jeonghan’s precise involvement. Jeonghan may have confessed earlier to participating, but Minghao wasn’t going to start throwing people under the bus for what they did, and Jeonghan understands that—he knows his friends well.

At Jeonghan’s voice, everyone turns their attention to the eldest child in the group.

“Because my teacher lets me run copies for her during class, I have a copy-room pass.” Jeonghan explains. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal to use the machines; I just saw the opportunity and took it. I came up with the idea of using cardstock because they’re thicker, and by using the laminating machine, I can make the cards water proof. These cards may not be the originals, but they’ll last longer.”

“That’s actually rather clever.” Soonyoung mutters under his breath. “Quite the investment.” Jihoon is tempted to hum in agreement, but keeps his silence instead.

“So what do you with all the profits?” The principal questions.

“The money goes to Joshua, because he’s good at counting all the coins. He collects them in a milk carton in the closet, and writes the daily income in a notebook.”

At this, Jihoon transfers his focus onto Joshua, who sits poised in his chair at Jeonghan’s right side.

_So that’s why all the milk was transferred into a pitcher that one day…_

“And what are you going to do with all the money?” The principal asks.

Jeonghan crosses his leg to rest his ankle over his thigh, foot subtly tapping against Joshua in the process.

If Jihoon didn’t know his own kids any better, it would’ve looked like a natural movement; but as a father, nothing escapes his attention.

“We’re saving it up for a new PlayStation console.” Joshua answers calmly, unfazed by Jeonghan’s cue. “Because we’re always at each other’s houses, one PlayStation is enough. We wanted to pay for it ourselves, with our own money.”

It comes out a little _too_ rehearsed, and having Joshua as the chosen spokesperson has Jihoon raising a skeptic eyebrow. His boys are slick, but they’re not _that_ slick.

“Jeonghan came up with the idea of selling cards one day when he saw the other boys trading them.” Joshua continued, and this, Jihoon can believe. “We agreed to start selling full decks to anyone who wants one. But we do give away single cards too. One cent per single card.”

“And how long has this been going on for?” The principal questions.

“Since August.” Joshua replies solemnly. Jihoon reminds himself that it’s early December now.

“And how much have you made since then?”

“About $134.”

Jihoon stops breathing for a moment. Soonyoung, who’s in the middle of drinking from a water bottle, lets out a cough, choking on his drink. Meanwhile, Seungcheol is repeating “$134,” under his breath in disbelief.

“And that’s all from trading cards?”

“No. We expanded our trade.” Minghao pitches in, and all eyes fly back to Minghao.

 _“You expanded your trade?”_ The principal echoes in a flat tone.

Minghao looks around uneasily at all his friends.

“You might as well explain yourself Minghao.” Soonyoung says with a straight face. “We’re already here.” There’s a defeated sigh from the boy.

“We all decided to work on different projects so we could have more customers.” Minghao begins with uncertainty. “Mingyu likes to draw, so he’s been making comics at home and selling them at his desk before class starts and before dismissal. He gets fifty cents for each book. Sometimes during indoor recess he’ll make a quick comic and call it a special edition, and it’ll sell for seventy-five cents. He makes fresh copies of the regular editions at home, so there’s always enough to sell… We didn’t make photocopies of the cards at home because we don’t have cardstock or a laminating machine.

“Seokmin makes pet rocks and sells them at recess, and at the basketball courts afterschool before we walk home. Small rocks that aren’t too decorated are priced at ten cents, and bigger rocks that are fully painted, or glittery sell for fifty or sixty cents depending on the size. Seokmin’s rocks are really popular because they’re very cute. Usually it’s just the kindergarteners, first graders, and second graders that buy them.

“Seungkwan and Hansol pass around home-made cookies in the cafeteria and playground for fifteen cents. You get two cookies for each payment. On one end of the table, Seungkwan will start passing down cookies to a buyer. Across from him on the other end is Hansol, who receives the coins passed in their direction, and he saves the coins in his lunch box. I think they have the best business because people never get tired of cookies. They sell fast and the next day, everyone wants more.”

“I help dad pack lunches in the morning.” Hansol brightly pipes up. “Seungkwan’s lunchbox is always filled with cookies, so when I help dad make lunches, I always put extra food in my box for Seungkwan before I leave.”  

There’s a quiet chuckle from Soonyoung, and when Jihoon looks over, he finds that Soonyoung looks fairly amused by the whole thing.

Seungcheol on the other hand is covering his face; shoulders slightly shaking. Jihoon isn’t sure if the man is laughing or crying. Maybe both.

As for Jihoon, his heart secretly bursts with pride. Little businessmen, all of them. Carving out their little niche and creating a market for themselves to thrive in. He’s proud of his sons. He’s also proud of Seungcheol’s and Soonyoung’s boys because they might as well also be his own—they practically live at his house during the weekdays anyway.

And suddenly it all makes sense:

The paint stains and lingering glitter on Seokmin’s desk, as well as the smooth rocks lining up on the windowsill of Seokmin and Seungkwan’s shared room. It was a collection that struck Jihoon as interesting, but not note-worthy as he went on his laundry-collecting rounds…

Also, the constant, loud jingling coming from Hansol whenever he arrives home with the boys; smiling his bright, gummy smile as if he had won the lottery (which wouldn’t be that far from the truth)…

How all seven of the boys would rush upstairs to Joshua’s bedroom _every day_ , while Wonwoo and Junhui trailed not far behind, giggling as if they were sharing a secret…

The excessive baking the boys have been doing in the past two months; how all of them always spent at least two hours gathered in the kitchen…

How Seungkwan would always barge into the studio room without warning, tug on his hand and ask him to put the tray in the oven or to pull the tray out, and then proceed to have him taste test a cookie—all ten children watching him closely as he nibbled at the biscuit still soft and hot.

_((“Is it good?” Mingyu would always ask with uncertainty, and Jihoon would always give him a truthful thumbs up which would result in everyone clapping while Seungkwan and Hansol exchanged high fives.))_

Jeonghan would always say that all this baking was to keep the house warm and cozy during the fall and winter seasons…

And Mingyu would always materialize out of nowhere and add the additional excuse of wanting to try new cookie flavors…

The kids were good at this business thing.

_Too good._

“So how do BamBam, and Jungkook fit in among all of this?” Another teacher asks, staring at the two boys that Jihoon doesn’t recognize. Jihoon notes that these boys must be from _her_ homeroom.

_Oh god. Their influence had spread._

“We’re their business partners.” BamBam answers.

“We signed a contract with Jeonghan.” Jungkook nods. “And sealed the deal with a handshake.”

 _“Sweet Jesus.”_ Seungcheol whispers a little too loudly and Soonyoung snorts; both actions earn a glare from one of the teachers.

“And what did this contract say?”

“That we are allowed to compete in Waters Elementary School’s free market economy, as long as we don’t act dirty against Seventeen Corporation in order to steal free-game customers who are to owe no loyalties to any business organization.” BamBam and Jungkook recite together without a pause.

Jihoon can’t fight the grin on his face anymore.

 _That’s my boy._ Only Jeonghan would pull something like this.

“Seventeen _Corporation?_ ” The principal presses. Something in the man’s tone makes Jihoon frown; there’s a mocking trace, and Jihoon doesn’t miss it. As a father, he knows when an insult is aimed towards his kids. Apparently the children catch it too, going by the confused looks on their faces, aimed towards their principal. “And what is the significance behind the number seventeen?”

“Seven businessmen, plus five business projects, run by three families in two headquarters, equaling to Seventeen.” Joshua explains smoothly.

 _“Two headquarters?”_ A teacher asks with a raised eyebrow. It comes out condescending and Jihoon watches as Joshua frowns at her.

“The main headquarters is at my house where we regroup, hold meetings, create most of our products, and manage our profits. The second headquarters is at Mingyu’s house, where his comics are published.”

Jihoon would probably be nodding along with fondness at the amount of thought put behind this scheme if it weren’t for the fact that Joshua’s expression looked cold. Jihoon had heard the finality in Joshua’s tone; the building irritation that Joshua was feeling towards his brothers and friends being dissected and judged.

Joshua, soft-spoken and gentle-hearted by nature, was slowly losing his patience.

And Jihoon thinks he can see his son’s perspective. They came here to briefly go over the issue and settle out on punishments, but now some of the questions have taken a patronizing turn.

“And how do your partner businesses contribute to this… _corporation_?” The question is aimed back at the two boys from earlier. Jihoon doesn’t miss how Joshua’s eyes narrow.

“Me and Minghao are good friends.” BamBam begins without shame. “After school in the cafeteria while waiting for our busses, we trade and sell different things. I trade school supplies and Minghao trades cool toys and knick-knacks. So if someone comes to me with a toy, then they get erasers, cool pencils or pens for free. But if they want glow-in-the-dark pens or colorful gel-pens, they have to pay fifteen cents…

“When we see each other in the morning, we trade each other our stuff, so we never run out of things to trade. For Minghao, he takes in cool pens and gives away toys. Hot-wheel cars and robots and stuff like that. The nicer toys cost a dollar, but the lowest price is twenty cents.  In the morning, he gives me all the nice school supplies he has, and I give him all the toys I have. Sometimes business is slow, but getting fifteen cents is better than nothing.”

“Me and Mingyu are also friends.” Jungkook chimes in. “He draws comics and I draw comics, so there’s a little something for everyone. People like Mingyu’s comics more though. Some people in our class will tell their friends in Mingyu’s class to buy them a comic book from Mingyu.”

Jihoon hears Seungcheol whisper into Soonyoung’s ear, _“the kids are learning capitalism!”_

“You boys do know that school is not the appropriate place to buy and sell goods and hold your own businesses right? What you did was very wrong.” One of the teachers says.

“But we _didn’t_ know.” Seokmin pipes up for the first time, shaking his head, eyes wide. When everyone turns to look in his direction, Seokmin shrinks a bit in his seat. “What I mean is… if we knew that it was wrong, then we wouldn’t have done it. We _didn’t_ want to break any rules. We _didn’t_ think we’d get in trouble. We didn’t hurt anybody, and it’s not like we stole the money.”

“Yeah!” Mingyu says, coming to Seokmin’s defense. “Everyone is happy with the things they buy, so why is it so wrong?” The face he pulls resembles one of a kicked puppy’s; his eyes reflect confusion and hurt.

“It’s to protect students from dangerous items and unfair pricing.” The principal sighs.

 “But the pencil machine in the hallway is twenty-five cents.” BamBam wonders out loud. “I give my pencils for free, and my coolest pens sell for fifteen cents. I think my price is fair!”

 “And one cold, hard cookie in the lunch line is fifty cents! Hansol bounced one on the table before and it didn’t break!” Seungkwan pipes up unabashedly. “Me and Hansol’s cookies are soft and you can get two for fifteen!”

Jihoon has to ignore the subtle nudge Soonyoung gives him in the ribs.

_Since when did kindergarteners begin to grasp basic foundations of economics?_

Something tells Jihoon that Jeonghan and Joshua must have been teaching the boys lessons on production quality over their spent time in the kitchen.

“We understand your prices are lower.” The principal consoles, ignoring Seungkwan’s blunt statement on the state of the cafeteria’s cookies. “But not everyone sells like that, and if we allowed little businesses to pop-up in the student body, there _will_ be cheating. We can’t let you slide from trouble just because you priced fair. We have to shut the businesses down and give you boys punishment in accordance to school policy, just like anybody else.”

“I’ve decided Seokmin, Mingyu and Minghao will no longer sit together and will be separated until winter break. When the students return for spring, Mingyu and Minghao be placed in different classes...” The boys’ teacher announces, and Jihoon watches as the three mentioned students turn to look at each other with shared horror.

“…The inside of their desks will be cleared; any toys and items meant to be sold will be confiscated. Recess privileges will be taken away for the next two weeks.”

Seungcheol, Soonyoung and Jihoon simultaneously wince, knowing that this won’t go down quietly.

“But—” Seokmin protests, and this time he _does_ look close to tears. “But… _why?”_

“Why are you separating us?” Mingyu whines loudly, grabbing a hold of Minghao’s arm that’s closest to him. “We’re sorry! We promise we won’t do it again!”

“Separating us doesn’t even make sense!” Minghao points out heatedly.  

“My decision is _final_.” The teacher interrupts. “Reason being you three are _inseparable_ , and I think after today’s meeting, it would be good to mix you with other students.”

Minghao looks ready to object; stubborn disagreement painted all over his face, but the expression softens slightly when Seokmin turns to look pleadingly at him.

Seokmin, who never gets in trouble at school, and for the first time that he does, he gets ripped away from his friends as a consequence…

Seokmin, who works so hard to be a good student…

Seokmin, who took the time to hand-paint cute pet rocks and probably handed them out at recess with a sweet, bright smile on his face.

It wouldn’t surprise Jihoon if his son also politely sang out a thank-you after every purchase…

Jihoon watches as his son leans into Minghao, who drapes a protective arm over Seokmin’s shoulders.

It’s painful to watch, but somewhere inside Jihoon knows the woman is right—the boys are too attached to the hip and getting mixed with other students would do them some good.

Still, Jihoon has to look away, because Seokmin is now crying and Minghao is trying to dab away the tears. Jihoon’s eyes land on Jeonghan, who’s staring up at the ceiling, blinking a bit too frequently than normal.

Unlike Seokmin who freely cries, Jeonghan is trying to keep the tears in, and Jihoon sees it. _It’s guilt._

“I will be revoking Jeonghan’s access to the copy room.” Jeonghan’s teacher informed. Jeonghan quickly ducks his head in acceptance and doesn’t look up; instead he nods slightly with his head still bowed, taking in the consequences that are being dished out.

“I am disappointed that my favorite student would take advantage of the trust I have in him and misuse the privilege that he has. I understand that he didn’t think his actions would do any harm, but he should’ve known better. He fooled around with school property that he shouldn’t have been messing with without anybody’s permission. I’m taking a week’s worth of recess away and I want him to stay afterschool for study hall next Monday as well. I think I’ll be giving him an essay on what it means to be a proper leader, seeing how this all stemmed from his idea and he actively encouraged it. The weekend should be enough time for Jeonghan to reflect on the prompt and his own actions.”

“Seungkwan and Hansol will get off on a warning.” The kindergarten teacher informs, as Jihoon looks over to his youngest. “They were under the influence of the older students, and they only wanted to help. I’m sure they know better than to pull something like this again.”

“I’ll have Jungkook’s and BamBam’s desks cleared as well. They’ll also have time-out from recess for the next two weeks of this month.”

“And Joshua…” Joshua’s teacher studies the second oldest student in the room. “You’re old enough to know better, yet you didn’t say anything. I know you had a rather detached, minor role in the midst of this, being your group’s equivalent to a banker, but you were still involved. I’m really disappointed in you.” She watches Joshua nod in understanding and the expression on her face softens. “I’m letting you off on a warning.”

“So what should the kids do with all the money that they made?” Seungcheol asked. There’s a contemplative silence from the staff.

 _“About $134...”_ Joshua’s voice echoes in Jihoon’s head, almost hauntingly.

It amazes him that the kids really pulled that off…

“Well, if the kids kept track of who paid for what, we would like for them to give that money back. But we also understand that they may not have given official receipts or kept a detailed tracking report of their earnings.”

“So…they’re _allowed_ to keep the money?” Soonyoung asks for clarification, digging to the root of the ambiguous reply.

“Yes.” The principal sighs. “They’ll be able to keep the profits they have made.”

At this, Jihoon looks around at the faces of the children. None of them look particularly happy with the news.

Hansol and Seungkwan are too busy sending concerned looks towards Seokmin. Seungkwan, who’s sitting beside his brother, had looped their arms together. A nonverbal gesture of _‘I’m here, don’t be sad.’_

Seokmin, Minghao, and Mingyu look the most upset. Seokmin is zoned out, head still resting on Minghao’s shoulder as Minghao combs fingers through Seokmin’s hair. Mingyu is staring at the carpet, scuffing his sneakers against the floor.

Joshua wears a neutral expression with a faraway gaze in his eyes.

And Jeonghan recollects himself, dabbing his sleeves under his eyes and schooling an expression that matches Joshua’s own.

Jihoon sighs. He has a full evening to turn those frowns upside down.

 

The walk through the parking-lot is an eerily quiet one. The kids all walk ahead of the adults, but in various paces and in their own little groups.

Jeonghan and Joshua are walking side by side. Jeonghan has his hands stowed into his jacket pockets, looking straight forward, and his back is slightly hunched. To his left is Joshua, who is shouldering both their backpacks, and speaking in low tones only the two of them can hear.

Jihoon sees the gentleness in Joshua’s features, and the comforting hand that's placed on Jeonghan’s back.

Seokmin, Mingyu and Minghao had already reached Jihoon’s car. The three are holding hands as Mingyu and Minghao each take turns speaking to Seokmin, probably bouncing statements off of each other as Seokmin watches them both, hanging on to every word they say.

Seungkwan and Hansol are speaking together a little ways away.

“You know, is it bad that I’m not mad at them?” Soonyoung breaks the silence among the fathers. “I’m more amazed by what they did more then anything. $134! They all did really well!”

“I’m not mad either.” Seungcheol agrees quietly. “They really organized themselves, didn’t they? They took it seriously. They’ve been saving everything since August.”

“To be honest,” Soonyoung muses. “I was about to get a little angry when I first heard that Minghao tried to get five dollars from the guy just for a deck of cards—that would’ve been a scam, and if all their prices were like that, then yes, I would be upset because that isn’t fair; especially to little kids that don’t know any better...”

“But then we found out that the guy was a bully,” Seungcheol adds in. “And their prices weren’t that bad.”

“Exactly.” Soonyoung snickers. “Seungkwan was fast, exposing the cafeteria cookies like that. Kids can be smarter than what people give them credit for.”

“I’m proud of them.” Jihoon agrees. “It wasn’t the right time or place to start their business, but I really am proud of them. I just hope they didn’t take the meeting so deep to heart.”

“And now you remind me. Hao’s gonna wanna talk tonight.” Soonyoung mutters, rubbing a hand tiredly at his face. “Or rage-rant. I’m expecting anything right now. And suddenly I feel like I’ve aged by a decade or two.” At this, Jihoon rolls his eyes.

“Boo-hoo you. You’ve got one upset kid to deal with. I have _four_.” Jihoon reminds. Soonyoung makes a face before placing a hand on Jihoon’s shoulders.

“You’re right. I’m so sorry. May God have mercy on your soul.”

“Thank you Soonyoung. I appreciate your undying support.”

 

* * *

 

It’s a quiet ride home in the Lee car, which is a rare occurrence. Usually the atmosphere is lighthearted with the children singing along to their favorite songs on the radio or playing silly games that they’ve made up on their own.

Today, the atmosphere hangs heavy. Jeonghan rides in the passenger seat with his hood up, a sign that he’s not willing to talk. Joshua and Seokmin are looking out their respective windows, and Seungkwan, who sits in the middle, is staring straight ahead out the windshield.

The second Jihoon pulls into the driveway, Jeonghan is the first to leave the car, closing the car-door gently behind him.

“I tried talking to him.” Joshua says once the door shuts. “He won’t listen.” While the four of them watch Jeonghan stand outside patiently by the front door, Jihoon pulls out the keys from the ignition and passes them to Joshua.

“You, Jeonghan, and Seungkwan go on in. I want to talk with Seokmin for a few minutes.” Jihoon says.

“Yes, dad.” Joshua replies before turning to face his little brother and putting on a smile. “Come on; let’s go inside where it’s nice and warm!”

Seokmin watches them exit the vehicle.

“Come on over to the front Seokmin,” Jihoon waves over, looking over his shoulder. Obeying, Seokmin climbs over to the passenger seat.

“How are you feeling?” Jihoon asks when Seokmin settles in. Seokmin looks over at him and tries to smile, but it lacks its usual charm.

“I’m okay.”

“But you’re not okay.” Jihoon points out.

“I don’t like being in trouble.” Seokmin mumbles turning his head to face the front. Jihoon chuckles at this.

“I don’t think anyone likes being in trouble, bud.”

“I didn’t mean to disappoint you.” Seokmin blurts out. “I know I make a lot of mistakes, so I work hard to make myself better! I work hard to fix it. If I did bad on a test, I can fix it! If I accidentally say something mean, I can say sorry and fix it and I make sure never say it again. But now I don’t know how to fix what I did wrong.” Seokmin looks back at Jihoon, and the tears are falling again.

“I thought I was doing something good, dad.” Seokmin says in a small voice. “I liked making the pet rocks because it was fun to paint and they made all the other kids happy! I only wanted to make people happy, but all the teachers are mad instead. How do I fix that? When Mingyu said sorry, it didn’t matter! They were still disappointed, so what do I do?”

The question leaves Jihoon stunned, and he watches as his son shakes in sadness—Seokmin furiously wiping away at the tears that just keep coming.

“You don’t.” Jihoon whispers.

“H-huh?” Seokmin looks at him, eyes red, and head slightly tilted in confusion.

“You don’t fix it.” Jihoon repeats, before reaching to swipe the tear tracks from Seokmin’s face. “There’s nothing to fix, Seokmin. You didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. You didn’t physically hurt anyone. You didn’t ruin anything…” Jihoon trails off and sighs. Perhaps he isn’t explaining this as well as he should be.

“The only thing broken is a rule,” Jihoon tries again. “The only way you can make it better is to not break it again,” he pushes away at Seokmin’s bangs which are sticking onto the boy’s damp face.

“Think of it this way. Let’s say Seungkwan and Hansol started selling their cookies around the neighborhood. Let’s say they went to Minghao’s place and tried to sell their cookies. Minghao could buy the cookies, but Uncle Soonyoung would be there to make sure the cookies were safe to eat. He’d smell it. Break it open. Maybe taste-test it himself…

“It’s different at school though. No one knows if the cookies are safe. There isn’t a way to check that. A bully could put something in a cookie to make a kid sick and there’s no way to watch over that. A kid could hurt themselves with a toy that they bought from someone else. And if something does go wrong, the school can get in big trouble for not setting up rules or enforcing them. The no-selling rule is there to protect you and other kids.” Jihoon smiles gently. “It sucks, but if it protects you, I’d rather you be safe, and that’s why there are rules. Do you understand that?”

“I—I think I do.” Seokmin sniffles. “I’m sorry.” He says quietly. Jihoon huffs a small laugh.

“I know you are. And I believe you.”

“Are you mad?” Seokmin asks timidly, and Jihoon is quick to respond.

“No, I’m not mad. I wasn’t mad at school, and I’m not mad now. In fact, breaking rules aside, I am proud of you.” The corners of Jihoon’s lips twitch upward. “You boys taught yourselves how to make money, and you boys learned to manage it. And you didn’t let that change you either; you didn’t get greedy—you kept making your pet rocks because you liked seeing other kids happy—you’re still the Seokmin everyone knows and loves. So I’m not mad at you. _I’m very proud_.”

The comment is enough to draw a weak smile from the boy’s face—the first smile Jihoon had seen from his son all afternoon.

It’s like seeing the sun start peeking behind heavy clouds of gray.

Seokmin, Jihoon’s little sunshine, is starting to shine again.

 

“I don’t like being underestimated.” Joshua says quietly.

Jihoon is in the kitchen, casually looking through the pantry when Joshua initiates the conversation.

Jihoon, having finished his talk with Seokmin, had found Joshua sitting alone at the dining area of the kitchen, staring blankly at the wall. Jihoon pulls out a can of pasta sauce, before looking over at his second eldest son.

He finds that Joshua is looking at him, wearing an expression of hurt. Jihoon sets down the pasta sauce and walks over to the table, taking a seat beside his son.

“What do you mean?” Jihoon asks.

“Some of the questions they were asking,” Joshua begins, not looking his father in the eye. The boy’s brows are furrowed in concentration. “…They didn’t seem like fair questions. Like when they were asking about our business name! The way they said it felt so…. _judge-y._ ” Joshua looks up at his dad, as if asking for assistance in helping him find the right words to say.

“I felt like the business name really fit us!” Joshua explains. “It’s a name that includes all of us. It’s a family business and it’s all there in the name! And the teachers took all the information we gave them and made it seem like we were a joke.” Joshua’s face turns sad.

“I know when someone looks down on me. I can hear it in their voice. I understand what we did was wrong; I’m not upset about being in trouble. I’m upset at being looked down on. At my brothers being looked down on. At my friends being looked down on. That’s more hurtful than being punished.”

Jihoon sighs.

“You can’t please everyone in this world, Joshua.” He begins gently. “There are going to be people out there that will try and poke holes into you and really test your patience. There are going to be people who won’t like you or the things you do, and you can’t help that.”

“It’s not right.”

“I’m not saying it is. It’s just how people are.” Jihoon replies patiently. “And your teachers…you’re all still children, and I guess sometimes they expect you all to behave like children…Your Uncle Soonyoung said something in the parking lot earlier; he said that kids can be a lot smarter than what people usually give kids credit for, and he’s right… Your teachers weren’t expecting you all to be this thoughtful and elaborate with your business. I wish they weren’t so judge-y about it, but what you boys did isn’t in their ‘norm.’ Little kids aren’t openly holding businesses every day at school.”

“So what do _you_ think about it?” Joshua asks, and Jihoon sees the conflicting emotions on his son’s face—hope for a father’s approval, uncertainty if a response was truly wanted, fear for Jihoon’s disapproval…

“I thought you boys were brilliant.”

Joshua’s eyes light up at that.

_“Wait, really?”_

“Really, really.” Jihoon nods. “It was the wrong place to sell, but other than that, I am so proud.” Jihoon has to smile at the way Joshua ducks his head, grinning. The boy begins to kick his legs out in excitement, and Jihoon laughs.

“Are you feeling better now?”

The way that Joshua’s eyes shine when he looks up is enough of an answer.

 

After walking up the stairs, Jihoon makes his first stop at Seokmin and Seungkwan’s room. Knocking on the door he hears Seokmin’s voice call out, “come in!”

When Jihoon opens the door, he finds that Seokmin and Seungkwan are sitting on Seungkwan’s bed. Seokmin has Seungkwan on his lap, and on Seungkwan’s lap is a book. Both boys have smiles on their faces, and Jihoon can feel his heart lighten at the sight.

“Is everything okay in here?” Jihoon asks, and both of them nod.

“Okie-dokie, artichoke-ie.” Seokmin chirps.

Jihoon watches with amusement as Seungkwan gently elbows Seokmin in the stomach.

“Don’t be mean!” Seokmin half-laughs and half-whines before digging his fingers into Seungkwan’s sides _. “Or the tickle monster will come back for revenge!”_ There’s a loud squeal from the youngest and Jihoon steps away, shaking his head, chuckling. Closing the door behind him, Jihoon finds that his counseling here isn’t needed.

Walking down the hall, he braces himself for his last mission.

Jeonghan.

Taking a deep breath, Jihoon pauses at his eldest child’s door before gently knocking.

Silence.

“Jeonghan.” Jihoon calls out. No reply. “Jeonghan, I’m going to come in, okay.” Twisting the doorknob, Jihoon finds that Jeonghan had left the door unlocked.

“Jeonghan.” Jihoon quietly greets when he enters the room.

 The lump in the bed moves, and Jeonghan lifts the blanket to peer out to his father.

Jihoon takes in the disheveled hair. The red face. The puffy eyes.

 _“Jeonghan.”_ Jihoon says quietly approaching his son. Jeonghan sits up and lets out a shuddering breath.

The boy wasn’t done crying.

As soon as Jihoon sits on the bed, Jeonghan attaches himself onto his father’s side. Jihoon wraps his son in a hug and doesn’t say anything—just listens to Jeonghan’s restrained sobs.

“I didn’t mean to get the others in trouble.” Jeonghan says in a shaky voice. “I didn’t mean for Seokmin to cry. I didn’t mean for Joshua to feel ashamed. I didn’t mean for Mingyu or Minghao to go to different classes. I didn’t think we’d get into so much trouble…” Jeonghan sobs and Jihoon holds Jeonghan tighter.

“I know you didn’t mean it.” Jihoon soothes.

 _“My fault.”_ Jeonghan mutters. _“My stupid idea.”_

“Hey now, don’t say that.” Jihoon says pulling away. “Your idea most certainly wasn’t stupid and the boys took part in it voluntarily. You didn’t force them to do it right? You didn’t bully them into taking a part in this?” He watches as Jeonghan shakes his head.

“So then it’s not all your fault. You came up with the idea, yes, but the boys supported that, and you all came together.” Jihoon wipes at Jeonghan’s wet face. “You’ve cried so much now. It’s okay, everything will be alright.”

“But are _they_ alright?” Jeonghan asks. “Are they okay now?” His voice is small, and Jihoon knows that this would be Jeonghan’s biggest concern—Jeonghan plays the big brother role well; he loves his siblings so much.

“Yes, all your brothers are fine now.” Jihoon replies kindly. He watches as Jeonghan’s features relax. “And if it makes you feel any better, none of them are mad at you.” Jihoon sees the hope that takes over Jeonghan’s expression.

“They _aren’t_ mad at me?”

“No. If anything, Seokmin got upset because he didn’t know how to fix his wrongs, paired with the fact that this is his first time getting in trouble, which happens—it’s a part of learning; and Joshua was more upset at the teachers than actually getting in trouble. Seungkwan is fine. He’s having a tickle fight now with Seokmin in the bedroom.” At this, Jeonghan lets out a shaky laugh.

“Good. That’s good.” Jeonghan nods and sniffles before bringing his knees up to his chest. There’s a lull in the conversation. “If they’re feeling better, that’s what matters to me.”

“You’re a good big brother you know.” Jihoon says softly. “You take care of them, and you watch over them. You all may have gotten in trouble, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that you love those boys. And I’m happy you’re like that. I’m happy that you have a good heart.”

Jeonghan looks up at Jihoon with glossy eyes, and Jihoon knows that these aren’t necessarily sad tears.

These are emotional tears. Overwhelmed tears. Because Jihoon knows how important it is for Jeonghan to hear those words— that whatever happened at school doesn’t make him a failure of a brother.

“I sometimes think about what life could be like without them.” Jeonghan whispers, pressing himself against his father’s side. “”What life would be like without you too. And I get sad, because this family makes me so happy.”

“I know.” Jihoon murmurs. “This family makes me happy too. So don’t think about those sad things anymore, because we have each other now, and that’s all that matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMING UP…  
> Shakira’s hips don’t lie…and apparently neither do Seungcheol’s. Chan is apparently the ultimate chick magnet. Who is the true ‘Cool Dad™?’ What do the kids spend the $134 on?
> 
> Sometimes group trips to the mall are a disaster waiting to happen. Does that stop the Choi-Kwon-Lee clan from having them? Of course not…


	4. Celestial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I meant to post something two weeks ago on Thursday, but my step-bro picked me up right after finals, and I’ve been in my hometown with my fam since. There’s been a change of plans for this chapter—I know I mentioned last chapter that this chapter would be a fun one and would feature ot13, but my mood and writing decided to go a different route. 
> 
> I don’t know how many people actually read author’s notes, but for those who do, can I be honest? I just want to say thank you for giving this story your love! Reading your reviews have literally melted my heart when I felt so down and overwhelmed, and I really wish I could give you all a hug! Since two weeks ago, I’ve been mentally in a rut, and then Jonghyun passed away, and it burned a hole into my heart. I couldn’t find it in myself to touch my laptop, my lack of motivation, drop in self-esteem and heartbreak was just consuming me.  
> But I’m back at it again, because writing this fic had been my solace in the midst of all the pressure—a place where I felt warm. I was going through my inbox lately, and I see that this fic gives you guys the fuzzy feels too. So my heart goes to you all, thank you, so much.
> 
> I’m sorry if this is dramatic for an author’s note—I always feel like I have to explain myself for falling short. I apologize if this chapter is lacking. I’m only getting back up on my feet, and if that shows in my writing, again, I apologize. 
> 
> Much love to you all, I hope you’re all having a good morning or evening, wherever you are in the world. For those who have celebrated Christmas, I hope you had a wonderful Christmas, and for those who didn’t, I still wish you all nothing but the best for the rest of this year’s winter season.

 

Junhui is a softhearted boy.

It’s a fact that brings both comfort and worry to Soonyoung’s mind.

There’s a comfort in the fact that Junhui sees the world in bright color; a kaleidoscopic perspective through eyes that sparkle in awe of everything.

He’s a child that’s easy to please—sweet in nature, so willing to open his heart for anyone and anything.

And that’s where the comfort yields to worry.

Soonyoung worries for Junhui’s heart—worries for the days that someone will take advantage of his son’s gentleness, and it’s a heartbreak Soonyoung isn’t sure he’ll ever be ready to witness, no matter how many times those moments happen.

 

* * *

 

_Soonyoung remembers the first time he had met Junhui. The boy was only four, peering shyly behind the social worker’s leg._

_Soonyoung remembers kneeling onto the floor, holding his hand out in an offering. He remembers wearing a gentle, patient smile; not wanting to rush the child to interact._

_Soonyoung remembers how Junhui inched forward without encouragement—on his own accord—a bit hesitantly; uncertainty preventing lips from breaking into a full smile…_

_A tiny hand then slipped into Soonyoung’s. Palm-to-palm, fingers matching fingers._

_“Are you going to be my dad?” There was hope in that tiny, quiet voice. Hope that made Soonyoung’s heart ache._

_“If you’d like, yes. My name is Soonyoung.”_

_Tiny fingers shift to fit the gaps in-between Soonyoung’s fingers, and their hands lace together._

_“I’m Junhui.” The boy answers with a little more confidence._

_To Soonyoung’s surprise, Junhui grabs at Soonyoung’s other free hand._

_Soonyoung stares at their woven fingers, and when he looks up to face his future-adopted son, Soonyoung finds Junhui staring back, head tilted slightly to the side, as if asking ‘is this okay?’_

_Soonyoung sways their arms gently, as if they’re playing London Bridge._

_“It’s nice to finally meet you, Junhui.”_

 

* * *

 

Soonyoung holds Jun close…

Cradles Jun like he had when the boy was still small enough to climb into his lap after waking up from nightmares.

Soonyoung feels Jun shake with every sob… Feels the hot tears soak through his shirt.

“Dad, it hurts.”

“Sweetheart, I understand.”

 

* * *

 

_Soonyoung remembers the first time Jun had said ‘I love you.’_

_It wasn’t that long after Jun had officially moved in._

_It was night time and they were both lying down outside. Soonyoung had spread out a blanket on the lawn, and they were counting out the stars—stars that Jun could never find in the middle of a concrete jungle, where the bright lights of towering buildings served as a replacement for starlight._

_“In Korean, your name is Moon Junhui.” Soonyoung says quietly, pointing up at the moon, and the five-year-old perks up at that._

_“Does that mean I am the moon? Can I be your moon?” Jun asks excitedly while tapping at his father’s shoulder, and Soonyoung lets out a laugh, rolling over on his side so he can fondly poke the boy on the nose._

_“Yes. Yes you are. You are my moon.” Soonyoung gives Jun an Eskimo kiss—playfully rubbing the tip of his nose against Jun’s nose, which results in a peal of giggles from the child. “And you are my stars! My universe!”_

_When Soonyoung pulls away, he finds that Jun’s eyes are sparkling with happiness—it’s a brightness Soonyoung prays will never fade or go away._

_((…but children grow older, and deep inside Soonyoung knows innocence and carefree happiness are only found in polished fairy-tales…))_

_((...it scares him…that he can’t protect Junhui from everything, despite all the efforts he can give…))_

_“And I love you as big as the whole wide world!” Jun exclaims, and the pure honesty in the statement has Soonyoung at a loss of words for a brief second._

_Soonyoung’s playful smile softens._

_“I love you too Junnie…” Soonyoung lifts himself so that he bears his weight on his forearm, and leans forward to lay a kiss on the crown of Jun’s head._

_“…I love you to the moon and back.”_

 

* * *

 

“How can people be so mean?” Jun asks tearfully, pulling away. “I know I shouldn’t care—to me, you're my dad, the only dad in my heart, but I can’t help but think—something must be wrong with me; why else would my parents give me away?”

_'Was I unwanted? Unloved?'_

The words Jun had said to Soonyoung were haunting. 

 _“Nothing,”_  Soonyoung begins fiercely, bumping his forehead against Jun’s. “Nothing is wrong with you. Don’t  _ever_  let _anyone_ make you think otherwise.”

Jun stares back with big eyes. There are tears still gathering on the boy’s lashes, and trickling down his cheeks…

It breaks Soonyoung’s heart.

As a father, he wishes he can be a barrier for all the hurt—but that’s an unrealistic desire.

He can’t always be there to absorb all the painful comments hurled in any of his sons' direction, and children can be so unknowingly cruel.

“I don’t know why they left me.” Jun says in a small voice. “I was just a baby. I wonder…did they love me at all? To leave a baby and walk away?”

“I don’t know, Junnie,” Soonyoung says gently, pulling his son in for another hug. He rests his cheek on Jun’s soft hair.

“I’d like to say they did—I  _want_  to say they did, but that could be a lie, and I don’t want to lie to you. We’ll never know. But _I_ love you.  _Hao_  loves you.  _Channie_  loves you. Your  _friends_  love you. Uncle Ji and Uncle Cheol love you.  _You_  are  _loved_ , Junnie. From the bottom of our hearts,  _you are loved.”_

 

* * *

 

_When Soonyoung adopts Minghao, Jun had welcomed the younger boy with open arms._

_Minghao on the other hand, initially remained wary of his older brother’s kindliness._

_After two months of halfhearted reciprocation towards Jun’s affection, Minghao did eventually warm up to the concept of living with a brother._

_“He really is nice.” Minghao says one night as Soonyoung tucks Minghao into bed. The vague statement puzzles Soonyoung._

_“Who’s nice?”_

_“Junnie.” Minghao answers thoughtfully. “I thought he was pretending…but no. He would've given up by now...” Minghao trails off, and Soonyoung doesn’t press further. He knows enough of Minghao’s background and doesn’t want to open Pandora’s Box before bed._

_He knew there were lines drawn between the two, parameters set by Minghao—a distance that no matter how much Jun ran, it seemed unreachable to get to the younger boy._

_And yet after that night, the two boys slowly became a dynamic duo of sorts; partners in crime, much to Soonyoung’s amusement…_

_The two boys would assist each other in sneaking sweets out of the pantry before dinner while Soonyoung was caught up with tending food on the stove…_

_((“The cookies are on the second shelf. Over.” Minghao hisses loudly into his toy walkie-talkie as he peers from around the couch, sight locked on a pack of Oreos staring back at him from the open pantry straight ahead.))_

_((“Report dad’s position, Lieutenant Hao. Over.” Jun requests from his outpost on top of the stairs. In his crouched position, he watches his younger brother closely.))_

_((“Dad is at the stove. Busy. Tonight’s dinner—chicken. Over.”))_

_((“Keep clear of dad’s vision. Proceed with mission objective. Be careful. I can’t give you back-up. Over.”))_

_((“Roger that, Captain!” Minghao switches off the talkie and places it in his back pocket before crawling his way to the kitchen.))_

_((If Soonyoung sees anything from the corner of his eye, he continues making dinner as if nothing had happened.))_

_((And if Soonyoung had heard the rustling of a plastic package, well, he pretends to have heard nothing at all and just smiles to himself...))_

_The two boys had also painted all over the walls of Minghao’s room and explained to their father that it was inspired art._

_((“Think van Gogh.” Minghao had said, when Soonyoung walked into Minghao's bedroom one morning to find the walls, his children, and the furniture covered in paint.))_

_((Minghao waves his arm proudly towards a smattering of red and blue streaked just above the bed's headboard; and Soonyoung just stares, slack-jawed, mouth agape.))_

_((“Picasso.” Jun pipes up helpfully, showcasing his handy work of green, yellow, and orange smears by the window.))_

_((And Soonyoung couldn’t find it in himself to be mad. It was like all those years ago, visiting a museum for some art appreciation class in college, stumbling upon a Jackson Pollock image—a canvas of colorful paint splatters…))_

_((Besides that, it’s nothing a new paint-job couldn’t hide. When Soonyoung sees that his boys look so genuinely proud of themselves, he swallows down his lecture and gathers them in his arms instead…))_

 

* * *

 

“I’ll fight them for you.” Minghao offers.

Jun laughs shakily, but Soonyoung doesn’t see any amusement on Minghao’s face. Instead, Soonyoung sees the fire and determination in his child’s eyes.

Minghao, who is selective in giving out his loyalty, is greatly protective of those he loves most. He may not be the oldest brother, but he is Jun and Chan’s sworn sword and shield.

“You don’t need to do that for me Hao Hao.”

“I know I don’t need to. But I  _want_  to. Treat others the way you want to be treated. Talk shit, get hit.”

“Minghao!” Soonyoung scolds his seven-year-old, and beside him, Jun lets out a weak giggle. "Where did you learn that?"

((Over on the recliner, Chan cheers for Minghao's little rhyme.))

“Uncle Ji swears in his studio sometimes. I think it’s the stress.” Minghao blinks innocently. “Bullies give me stress.” 

It takes Soonyoung a second to close his eyes and recollect himself--to reign in the amusement that's fighting to break free.

“Yes, but Uncle Jihoon is an adult and you’re still young—” Soonyoung manages with a straight face.

“I hear kids at school say bad words too!”

“It doesn’t mean you should go around saying them.” Soonyoung says patiently. “Maybe when you’re older, but there’s so much more words out there for you to learn; half of your vocabulary right now shouldn’t be swear words. It’s improper. But it’s not the right time to talk about that. We’re here to positively support Junnie.”

“Next time then, tell ‘em they’re ugly.” Minghao suggests, nodding at Jun, and Soonyoung lets out a sigh of exasperation.

“But they’re not ugly. They have nice faces.” Jun says, tilting his head to the side slightly in confusion. “And wouldn’t calling them ugly mean that I’m being mean back?”

“If their personality is ugly, _they’re_ _ugly_.” Minghao reasons with finality, as if he’s stating a fact. “Just like peanut butter Oreos. They look yummy on the outside, but the peanut butter on the inside ruins the cookie. Gross.”

Soonyoung has to feign a cough, if only to hide the smirk growing on his lips.

“But I really will fight them for you.” Minghao says somberly. “Family looks out for each other. Brothers look out for each other. You always take care of me, Junnie. I want to take care of you too. Let me take care of you.”

An expression of gentleness washes over Jun’s face, now dry of tears. His puffy eyes that were once crying from sadness had warmed.

“You don’t have to fight for me Hao. Their comments hurt, but I’ll learn to not let it bother me anymore. Dad’s right—maybe my real mom and dad never loved me, or maybe they did and I’ll never know, but that doesn’t matter anymore. I have you guys, and you love me and that’s all that counts…”

It takes a moment to convince Minghao, the younger boy studying Jun through narrowed eyes, as if searching for any underlying doubts in his older brother’s words. When Jun soothingly says ‘it’s okay,’ the last bit of resolve in Minghao thaws, and the younger boy nods.

Minghao walks over to the couch and sits to Jun’s other side, resting his head on his older brother’s shoulder…

 

* * *

 

_When Soonyoung adopts Chan, the youngest boy is constantly covered with kisses and is always held one way or another._

_Soonyoung watches as Jun continues being the best older brother he can be; wherever the eldest goes, the youngest follows at the hip—their hands joined._

_Chan is Jun’s teddy bear. On the couch, Soonyoung will see the older boy reading to the youngest; Chan situated in his older brother’s lap, listening attentively as Jun reads out loud, pointing to all the words and pictures on the page… Occasionally, Jun will pepper the top of Chan’s head with light kisses, causing the younger to look up and beam brightly._

_Soonyoung also watches as the softer side of Minghao comes out, the middle child always latching onto Chan, making sure that the little one knows that he’s welcomed and adored._

 

* * *

 

As Chan watches Minghao go over to Jun’s side, he follows his older brother’s lead, sliding off the recliner and going over to the couch where his father and brothers are gathered.

The youngest child clambers into Jun's lap, and with his small hands, Chan frames Jun's face and says, “Junnie, please cheer up.”

Jun smiles at that and places his hands on either side of Chan’s face.

“I already feel better.” The oldest boy presses his lips on both of Chan’s cheeks before kissing the boy’s forehead. “You make me very happy.”

 

* * *

 

**(+1)**

 

_“If Junnie is your moon, and Minghao is your stars, can I be your comet?” Chan asks one night._

_The four of them are sitting outside on a blanket spread out on the front lawn. Chan has his head resting on Soonyoung’s lap, his father combing fingers through his hair—fingertips gently grazing against his scalp._

_And to Soonyoung, the question hits him like déjà vu, reminding him of that one time a few years ago, sitting under the stars with Junhui._

_“A comet?” Soonyoung looks down at his youngest son curiously with a raised eyebrow, opting to brush away at Chan’s bangs. “Why a comet? Why not the sun?”_

_“The sun’s a star too.” Chan says, blinking back at Soonyoung solemnly. “Minghao's already your stars. I don’t want to be another star in the sky.”_

_Somewhere in the background, Minghao murmurs to Jun about Seokmin’s smiles being like sunshine and Jun hums along in acknowledgement._

_“And why do you want to specifically be a comet?” Soonyoung asks as Chan reaches for one of his hands. He lets the small boy lace their fingers together._

_“Because they’re one of a kind.” Chan says simply. “And they’re fast when they zoom through the sky! They look like shooting stars, and people make wishes on them. I want to be like that—I want to give people hope.”_

_“Then you’re my little comet.” Soonyoung agrees, “my little shining hope,” and Chan’s pleased smile is a precious thing._

_Soonyoung looks around at his boys._

_Chan, the comet—a boy whose spirit is free and rein-less._

_Minghao, the stars—a boy who burns intensely, even in the dark._

_Junhui, the moon—a boy with a serene soul, forever constant in presence._

_Soonyoung’s sons are celestial, and when he looks back up to the sky, he can’t help but reflect on the unmeasurable amount of love he has for his family._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMING UP… 
> 
> OT13 knows how to put the fun in ‘dysfunctional.’ Jihoon’s probably never going to host another cook-out at his house again.


End file.
